Clouds
by MSCSIFANGSR
Summary: Grissom finally opens his eyes to Sara.  Long live GSR


TITLE: Clouds

AUTHOR: MSCSIFANGSR aka NoHayRemedio

PAIRING: G/S

RATING: Teen+

SUMMARY: Grissom finally opens his eyes to Sara

DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them.

NOTES: Mistakes are mine, no beta this time, just a little angsty quickie of a plot bunny I couldn't shake.

_G_

_Some days the sky is clear, free of clouds and a deep blue, the same color as your eyes. Those are good days. _

_Some days, the sky is full of gray stratus clouds, blanketing over the earth as my soul is covered in darkness. Those are bad days._

_Sometimes I look at the cirrus clouds in the early morning as the sun is first breaking over the horizon and I understand with a clarity how the ancient Greeks believed in higher beings on Mount Olympus looking down at us mere mortals._

_Sometimes I look at the clouds and see nothing; not seeing, because my mind is so full of thoughts of you and I, the non-relationship we share, the beauty of the morning is completely lost to me._

_Sometimes I watch as the light prisms through spaces between white cumulus clouds placing a variety of colors on all the objects on the surface of the earth._

_Sometimes I wonder at the myriad of patterns that are displayed in the heavens for any to attempt an interpretation of their shapes and forms._

_Sometimes I even think I see your image in the clouds as they billow and believe the gods are torturing me for loving you._

_I love you. It is so much a part of me that I am unsure where I end and you begin. I love you because there is way, it just is._

_But you shelter your heart from me, pulling you from me, like a limb from my own body has been forcefully amputated._

_But you still lead me on with your eyes boring into me when you do not think I notice; with your voice when you call me name so alluringly; with your slight brushes against my body when there is ample room not to touch; with the heat from your body mingling with mine._

_But you do not want my love, nor do you want to give your's to me._

_You do not think I notice you hide your true self from me, turning away slightly, instead of meeting me face to face._

_I am a strong woman. I can bear many things: abuse, neglect, indifference, loneliness, hunger, poverty, life, death, but I cannot bear anymore without you. My life is not worth living without you._

_Goodbye, my love._

_Hopefully, until we met again. I am rushing into the next life, with hope that we will be together then._

_I love you._

_S_

GSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSR

As Grissom read the suicide note, his thoughts were not on the beautiful corpse who lay before him, with a gun grimly clutched in her right hand against her temple, body grotesquely angled in ways a live body never would, but on a certain brunette.

The nightshift supervisor of the Las Vegas Crime Lab had chosen to take the apparent suicide of a 33 year old woman in her apartment as his only case for the night. His desk was covered in paperwork that would keep him busy at least until the end of the year and it was only February. He had decided this would be an easy case before he tackled the piles of paperwork. His team had several cases. Nick and Warrick had gone out on a 419 at the Rampart Casino. Catherine on a B&E at the jewelry store on the strip and Greg and Sara had a case of suspicious circumstances surrounding a house fire close to Grissom's own townhouse.

But this suicide letter was beautiful in the declarations of love the woman had for "G". Grissom wondered briefly who the "G" was, but instead decided irrationally he was the "G" and Sara was the "S". He knew after reading the letter how Sara really felt about him when he had shut himself off from her. He suddenly knew "what to do about this" because he could not stand the thought of Sara laying in her own blood with a gun against her head.

Grissom knew he had feeling for her since the beginning, when they had first met, but he could not act upon those feeling because he felt almost ancient to her fresh just out of college face. They had established a mentor/student relationship by email and instant message about forensics, entomology, anthropology; and over the two years of electronic communication had learned a couple of intriguing personal revelations about each other.

When he had called her to come investigate the circumstances surrounding the shooting of Holly Gribbs at a crime scene, he thought being appointed nightshift supervisor was a temporary job title and after the resolution the case, maybe he and Sara could begin a relationship, when the supervisor position would be filled with someone other than himself. But the Sheriff at the time had made no effort to replace him and Grissom was stuck being Sara's supervisor.

Over the years, their relationship had become severely bizarre bordering on macabre. She wanted him, insisting at times, but he kept turning her down. Jim Brass had told him Sara had witnessed his confession of sorts to Vincent Lurie, the man who murdered Sara's doppleganger. Sara became almost inconsolable after that. He was guilty because he knew he was the reason for her unhappiness.

But now, reading this letter, he could 'see' Sara before him dead and he knew this was his last chance.

He removed his cell phone from his pocket and hastily keyed in her number.

"Sidle."

"Hey." He intoned.

"What's up, Grissom?" She cheerfully inquired.

"Uhm, would you like to have breakfast with me after shift?"

"Something about a case or the whole gang meeting for breakfast?"

"No, just me and you and for personal reasons."

The silence was deafening. He looked down at the phone and wondered if the call had been dropped.

"Sara?"

"What kind of personal reasons?" She inquired hesitantly.

"The right kind of reasons between a man and a woman."

"For real? You're not pulling some sort of joke on me? Is Greg videotaping my response, so everybody back at the lab can laugh at me?"

Grissom was silent for a few seconds before responding: "Like 'Candid Camera'?"

"More like 'Punk'd'," she quickly said.

"What?"

The sound of Sara's laughter filled his ear. "Yeah, what you said."

Grissom's tone deepened slightly before saying: "Sara, I'm asking you out to eat, as in a date. Between you and I. This non-relationship we've had has to end now. I want a relationship with you. And I have since I first met you."

"Me too," she breathed into his ear. "What changed?"

"We'll discuss that and other things over our meal, if you will go with me."

He could hear deafening silence again. He cleared his throat slightly as he heard a very soft "Yes" in his ear.

"Good, I'll see you at the end of shift. No overtime, Miss Sidle."

GSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSRGSR

Greg Sanders stood next to an ecstatic Sara Sidle. He noticed a change in her immediately after her cell phone conversation. He walked over to her as the building still smoldered behind him. "Who was that?"

"Grissom."

Greg made a funny grimace, poked out his lips and crossed his eyes. "What'd he want?"

Sara laughed at his attempt to add some levity to their situation. "To remind us, we can't have any overtime, so get back to work, Rookie, so we can leave on time."

"Aye-Aye Captain." Greg saluted stiffly and shuffled off toward the fire that had now been confirmed an arson.

Sara stood watching him, but her thoughts were on the now breaking dawn as the light broke through the cirrus clouds and thought of Grissom in the soft orange light.

THE END


End file.
